<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Short DBD stories by NoctaK</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22924846">Short DBD stories</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoctaK/pseuds/NoctaK'>NoctaK</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead by Daylight (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood, Fluff, Intoxication, M/M, Wounds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:20:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22924846</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoctaK/pseuds/NoctaK</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Short stories from my own ideas and from requests. If there is something you want me to write about, leave a note in the comments, REQUESTS OPEN.</p><p>"x" between two names means relationship, "&amp;" between two names just means a story about them two</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/Michael Myers, Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/Philip Ojomo | The Wraith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Evan x Michael</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[Evan/Michael] [715 words] [SFW] [Mention of wounds and blood]</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What is it that you need, boy, can't you see I'm busy?" The broad man grumbled without looking away from the trap onto which he was currently applying tar.</p><p>As expected, the mute intruder did not reply. Michael did not even move in the slightest, as he loosely held onto his large knife and kept his focus on the Trapper. Evan expected as much and huffed setting his tools to the side before turning to face his guest whilst wiping the black viscous liquid off from his hands. He knew that if he wanted the answers, he would have to work them out himself and so he looked at the unmoving eyes of the masked killer and slowly worked his gaze down the other’s body.</p><p>No new bloodstains, meaning that he did not arrive from a trial. No tension in his muscles, so Michael was not out for blood. Not yet at least. Finally, the bloodied material and the deep wound in the other's leg were noticed by the tired killer. It made him realize why the Shape made no attempt at movement. He must have stepped into one of Evan's bear traps and now tried to hide the pain he felt. It also explained why it was so easy for the owner of the trap to hear the killer's arrival.</p><p>"I told you to watch your steps. I am not going to stop setting my traps just because you don't look where you're going!" His scorn did not come from anger, but rather from worry.</p><p>He did not want Michael to get hurt every time he chose to visit the Macmillan estate. The owner of this particular realm would not stop leaving his traps for any potential un-welcomed guests, but recently it was the man in front of him that would set off some of the bear traps with his uncareful steps.</p><p>"Come over here then" he tapped the top of his workbench. "I will get it sorted so at least it stops bleeding until <em>he</em> will heal you."</p><p>Michael seemed to consider between staying in place and moving to where he was told, but Evan’s “I don’t have all day” forced him to choose the latter. Carefully he walked over to the table, at the same time attempting to hide the limp that he developed. Regardless of his height, as he reached the table, he had to place his palms on the wooden surface to hoist himself up. His long legs dangled mere inches from the ground, whilst his eyes never left the man that they focused on.</p><p>Before the broad killer could step forward, a movement of the hand made the blade glint in the poor lighting of the workshop. A threat that if the Trapper would choose to hurt Michael, he would not think twice about harming the larger man in return.</p><p>"Relax, I am simply going to patch you up." Whilst Evan tried to be reassuring, his authoritative voice made it sound like a chastising. Michael was not touched by it however and so the older of the two was able to approach him.</p><p>He reached for a cloth that was least stained with dirt and tar and checked if it would be long enough to use as a provisional bandage. Satisfied, he was ready to treat the wound. Regardless of the fact that the Shape was now sitting on the bench, the other still had to drop to one knee and he had done so with a slight grunt of pain. Carefully he rose the trouser of the blue mechanic's jumpsuit and looked at the ripped flesh. He realized that Michael must have really fought with the sharp teeth to get his leg to such a state.</p><p>Nimble hands worked on wrapping the material around the other killer's wounded shin and he tied the two ends at the back to make sure it would stay in place. Then he rested his hand on his bent knee and pushed himself up from the ground with another groan.</p><p>"Well, that's all I can do for you, boy" he explained, as he looked at Michael who was repositioning the material of his trousers around the make-shift bandage. "Now you will show me which trap you managed to set off this time."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. David King</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>David feels the effects of the Clowns tonics</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[David King] [901 words] [SFW] [Mention of wounds, blood and intoxication] I am open to more requests down in the comments</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The world spun around David, as a bottle shattered right on his back sending clouds of sizzling pink gas and ripping a muffled scream from his throat. He choked on the tonic, feeling tears pour down his face, whilst his body swayed from side to side. He had managed to keep the chase on for two generators and was beginning to feel the effects of the fumes stronger than ever. In an attempt to support his rocking body, his hands gripped at a tree. Hastily he pushed himself away and attempted three more steps, before finally collapsing to the ground. </p><p>For an unknown reason, the killer's heartbeat began to fade. King was aware that he was easy prey at that point, making it even more confusing as to why the Clown would choose to pursue a different target. He tried to push himself away from the ground with shaky arms but felt no strength to reach even a kneeling position. Left to crawl towards two fallen trees he sought their shelter.</p><p>Suddenly he heard soft scratches in the grass. He saw the green blades moving and screamed in terror as he took notice of a large group of rats that was moving towards him. David barely managed to sit up and grab hold of one of the trunks to pull himself up, as the rodents reached his legs. He kicked out in an attempt to push them away. Some fell back with a squeak, whilst others climbed onto his leg and moved even closer to his bare torso. He punched and wriggled desperately trying to get rid of the rats that clawed at his skin seemingly focused on reaching his face.</p><p>David King, the fearless brawler, now felt terrified beyond what he ever felt in his life. He clenched his jaw shut and kept on pushing at the unfazed rodents. More tears poured down his face, as his legs were still too weak to stand up, to move away from the wave after wave of the black creatures. </p><p>He heard a laugh. Somebody was staring at his futile attempts and laughed out loud as if this was a damn comedy. It boiled David's blood and replaced fear with anger, fuelling the strength to stand up. He brushed the rats away with sudden ease and watched them scatter back into the grass from which they came.</p><p>"What's wrong mate, yer thrown punches in teh back of an alley, back can't fight off som' little rats?" The owner of the laugh taunted him. In the voice, he recognized one of the men he had managed to win a fight against in the past. "Looks like King is losin' his edge."</p><p>"I'll show yer my edge!" David roared and threw his body forward.</p><p>It was easy to tackle the smaller frame to the ground. He had fought and won against much bigger opponents. He clenched the front of the man's shirt in his fist and began raining down punch after punch, bloodying the person's face in the process. A broken nose, cut lip, bruise forming in one of their eyes, bleeding brow. It was not enough. Not whilst he could still hear the damn laugh and taunts coming from the other's lips.</p><p>His face showed pure rage, teeth bared, nose scrunched and saliva dripping with every punch. He was panting heavily from a mix of previous and current exhaustion. His fist was coated in red, not only from the other's blood but his own too as a few knuckles split from the impact.</p><p>The man before him raised his hands in an attempt to shield his battered face and yet still the damn laugh did not stop. David had to beat it out of him. Break all of his teeth, rip his tongue out, make sure that the only sound he would be capable of, was choking on his own blood.</p><p>"DAVID!" A feminine terrified shriek hit the survivor's ears and he looked over his shoulder towards Meg.</p><p>The ginger female held her hands to her mouth, watching him in disbelief, whilst David's fist still clenched the shirt of his victim. His body moved with every tired breath and he could not understand why Meg would react in such a way? Why was she here in the first place?</p><p>He looked back to the shivering figure and felt his stomach drop. A cold chill ran down his body and his eyes went wide with horror. Beneath him he saw the cowering figure no longer laughing, but crying in pain, choking on the blood that spilled from his broken nose and wounded mouth. David noticed a pair of shattered glasses laying to the side in the grass, the sight causing him to stand up and moved away from his fellow survivor.</p><p>The brawler looked at his bloodied hand in disbelief and took a step more, the realization of his act hitting home. He maimed his friend. He mutilated Dwight.</p><p>His body shook and with another step back he fell to the ground. His gaze lifted from his hands and onto the trembling body that now laid to the side with the help of Meg. She was saying something to the nervous leader, possibly trying to calm him down, but no words reached David's ears. He only heard white noise, as the same words repeated over and over in his head.</p><p>
  <em>Am I a killer now?</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Broken Pawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[Samuel Moore - my OC from the fan-fiction called ''Fifth Wheel''] [498 words] [SFW] [Mention of blood]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam looked up into the sky that was partially hidden by the dark branches. He was exhausted, drenched in blood and emptied of all emotions. Another trial that did not go well for the survivors. </p><p>Just a few meters away he heard the grunts of Meg desperately trying to fight off the limb that aimed for her chest. She clenched onto the hope of rescue, but Sam was not the one that would arrive with aid. He simply stood, watching the unmoving sky, deaf to the sounds around him. Soon it would end. Meg would be sacrificed and he would be free to leave.</p><p>Slowly he rose his palm to his face and brushed some of the blood away. It was still warm, clinging thickly to his skin, leaving trails as it dripped to his chin. He wondered what it would taste like. The answer felt obvious, yet curiosity was stronger. Carefully he inserted the tips of his two digits and licked the crimson off from his fingers. Sharp metallic taste overtook his senses and he was hit by a rush of disappointment. Nothing special, nothing pleasing, nothing to fill the void.</p><p>"If she would just let go." He thought, as his hand dropped back to his side. "If she would just stop fighting it would all end."</p><p>The face of the moon silently stared back at him, the crows seemed to judge his actions, he felt alone. It was a pleasant feeling. Standing solely on the map, owning the power between life and death. He held all of the control over her chances of escape.</p><p>Almost all of the control.</p><p>He was not a killer. If he chose to head for the save, there was one other person that could stop the process of releasing the female from the Entity's claws. If they chose to come back, whilst he was attempting the unhook, he could end up with the sharp metal piercing his own shoulder. He had some control over Meg's life, he had some over his own, but most of it lay in the hands of the killer and the claws of the Entity. He was a basic pawn in this eternal game of life and death.</p><p>He had often wondered whether this was the only way. After all, the pawn could always turn into a more valuable piece should it dare to reach the end of the board, break through all that stood in its path, remove other pawns if it had to. Would he even be capable of it? He was currently letting a pawn die. Waiting for it to leave the board. Would it count?</p><p>A wet crunch and a broken scream signaled the end of waiting. Three crows cawed above his head, circling above him. The heartbeat grew louder in his ears. The only sound absent was the hum of the hatch sealed before his feet.</p><p>A pawn standing too close to the other end of the board must always be eliminated.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Kazan & Rin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[Kazan/Rin] [594 words] [SFW]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A loud crash silenced the cicadas, an angered scream muted the hushed sound of bamboos moved by the wind. Kazan surely approached the estate already aware of what he would find inside. The young enraged killer throwing what little furniture she owned. He walked up onto the engawa and stopped. Mere meter from his body, a chabudai flew through the delicate shoji, leaving a hole large enough for him to enter the estate once he dipped his head down.</p>
<p>Her back was turned to him, shifting and changing position like a glitch, shards of glass sticking out from her soft flesh, severed limbs staying in place with the aid of unknown force. Her hair floated in the air as if she was standing underwater. Her rage was both visible and audible, as her eyes searched for a new piece of furniture to throw and her mouth released an inhuman shriek.</p>
<p>Kazan watched Rin whilst she simply stood in one spot, before she disappeared only to appear behind him and strike with a cry. Their blades collided, the taller killer seemingly aware of her intentions. His move seemed indifferent, as he simply held his hand over his shoulder, with his blade facing down behind his back. This confrontation visibly added to the Spirit's fury and she phased once more to attack him from the front. Sparks flew, as their blades crossed again and Kazan pushed her katana away with his.</p>
<p>The male killer did not intend to attack her. He blocked each of her hits, unfazed by the show she presented him with. Each following slash and push of her blade weakened, whilst the angered shrill turned to anguished wail. Tears dripped down her face and she finally lowered her blade before allowing it to disappear altogether.</p>
<p>It was a sign that he could finally approach her without the risk of being attacked. He sheathed his katana with a soft click and stretched his hands slightly to the sides in an invitation for a hug. Long had he learned that this was the most effective of ways to calm down Rin whenever her emotions took control.</p>
<p>She sniffled loudly and brushed angrily at her eyes, before taking on the offer of the hug. Carefully he wrapped his strong arms around the shorter female's body and felt it shake with every exhale. It was not the first time they ended up in this position and Kazan knew that it would not be the last. The Entity played around with her frayed mind and each trial re-lit the rage she felt towards her father.</p>
<p>"I keep on seeing their faces, I keep on hearing their taunts. They call me weak, they say I fail. I see my father holding the bloodied blade, I see my mother's broken body. She lies on the ground, he stands over her. I chase him, cut him down..."</p>
<p>She paused to take a long shaky breath. It was slowly passing, and she had enough strength to collect her thoughts. Feel shame blossom, as she again spoke of her weakness to the great Kazan Yamaoka, but she remained in his arms.</p>
<p>And he allowed her to spill her heart, stayed silent as she spoke. It was what she needed, to let the emotions pass. She did not want to be interrupted and he understood that. Only once she turned to muffled sobs, her face pressed into his chest, did he allow himself to speak the basic sentences.</p>
<p>"You are strong, my child. You are a Yamaoka. Turn your rage against them, not yourself."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Evan x Philip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chapter requested by the lovely Smokeygg! &lt;3 </p><p>I usually like a more stern Evan, but I felt like writing something soft today. I feel like Philip would be the only one to see that side of him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[Evan x Philip] [569 words] [SFW] [Soft fluff]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was rare for the killers to spend time in groups or even pairs. Some of them considered others as rivals, some were simply uninterested in conversations. However, on those rare occasions when they did meet, relationships were formed. Some of the killers were human enough to miss the contact of another person. Many would consider Evan MacMillan as one of those killers, who stays in his realm and does not interact with anybody else. His trapped grounds spoke of a man who hates visitors. Yet he did allow a specific killer to visit him and he himself often left the estate to spend his time with the only killer he trusted.</p><p>They both were the longest living hunters that the Entity used in its trials. Both were shaped by its power, forced into its murderous games. Feared by the survivors, respected by some of the killers, nobody would have even thought that either of the men had a softer face. They were careful to show that other side only to each other.</p><p>Soft content growls passed Philip's lips, as Evan tenderly kissed his throat. The Wraith's head was slightly tilted back revealing more skin to the other killer. He loved the feeling of the other's chipped lips. Enjoyed the soft moments when those strong hands carefully caressed his flesh, making sure not to hurt Philip.</p><p>In return, Philip's smooth palms run over Evan's arms. He remembered each and every scar that his lover had, the position of each piece of metal that stuck out of the tortured flesh and he was able to run his long fingers around the painful areas even with closed eyes. Whilst Evan would never openly admit that his opened wounds hurt since the day that he got them, Philip was aware of it and always maneuvered around them whenever their bodies were close.</p><p>A pleasured hum escaped the Wraith whilst his head fell to the side allowing the Trapper to change the position of his kisses. Philip's hands drifted to Evan's bare chest, traced their way to his hips and onto the back of his lover. Each soft ceres removed the tension from the broad man's body and took his mind away from their hunts. Time and thoughts fully occupied by each other leaving no space for anything else.</p><p>The stronger of the two killers changed the area of focus once more and left a single kiss on the other's forehead, each of the eyes, tip of the nose, lips and finally the chin. Their foreheads met together, and their eyes closed, as they simply remained together in their gentle embrace. The sounds of their breathing were the only ones that entered their ears, the feeling of their bodies pleasantly reminding them that they had each other in this hellish realm.</p><p>"I love you, Philip" </p><p>Evan was the first to break the silence with his whisper. He knew that the other will never be able to form the same words, his voice cords damaged by the Entity, but he did not need them to know that he too was loved. His lover had a limited amount of sounds that he could make, and the Trapper had learned the tone of each one. He knew by the pleasant hum that Philp responded with his own sign of love and it was all that was needed to bring a smile to Evan’s usually scorned face.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>